Symphony No. 6 in B Minor

Reactions to Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 6 are often tinged by the fact that he died just nine days after conducting the work’s premiere in 1893, and by suspicions his death was self-inflicted, a result of his closeted homosexuality. Yet while Tchaikovsky himself acknowledged it was an intensely personal piece—its title, “Pathétique”, points to a strong emotional element—there is little or no evidence he thought of it as a suicide note, or a farewell to composition. The Symphony is, however, haunted by intimations of mortality, from the glowering bassoon solo at the outset to the faint ebbing away of the life pulse at its conclusion. Existential instability stalks the music. The thunderous outburst of pent-up anxiety in the opening movement is one example. The second movement masquerades as a waltz, but is rhythmically skewed and hobbled with uncertainty. Movement three, superficially upbeat and dynamic, harbours a palpable instability. The slow finale is heart-achingly beautiful, though a sense of loss and transience is pervasive. Tchaikovsky distrusted autobiographical explanations of his music, but he knew this was something special. “I love it,” he commented, “as I have never loved any of my other musical offspring.”